Rose Weasley and the Last Shard
by Alley Cat Sunflower
Summary: Formerly called Thorns: Rose Weasley heads off to her first year at Hogwarts, resolved to be the best Gryffindor Hogwarts has ever seen, beat Malfoy in every test, and have a normal year. Unfortunately, not everything turns out as planned, so a shift in strategy is required. Does she have what it takes to bear with it? I don't own Harry Potter or the cover art! *SUSPENDED.*
1. The Sorting Hat's New Trick

Rose waved goodbye to her parents on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, somewhat more shakily than she would have liked. Now that she was facing a whole new school, she wasn't sure she was quite brave enough for Gryffindor. She comforted herself with the knowledge that both her parents had been Gryffindors, so there was no reason for the Hat to Sort her otherwise.

She sighed, shaking herself out of her thoughts, and glanced around her compartment. Only Albus had come with her, and to have your cousin as your only friend wasn't much of an achievement. Rose had never been great with people, a trait which her father always cheerfully recollected was obtained from her mother at her age, and that wasn't likely to improve a lot if she wasn't sorted into Gryffindor—

"What're you so worried about?" asked Al, frowning. "You look concerned over there."

"Nothing," responded Rose quickly. _If you're not in Gryffindor, we'll disinherit you, but no pressure… _She knew her father had been joking, as so often he did at inopportune times, but what if they _weren't _in Gryffindor and he really _did _disown them? Knowing her fear was irrational didn't stop it from being a thing or anything.

Rose looked up to see Al smiling sadly at her. "Are you worried you'll be in Slytherin?"

"Not necessarily Slytherin," she said hastily. "Just… if I'm not in Gryffindor…" She trailed off. Gryffindor, the House of glory, the House of bravery, the House of… well, her parents. It was less for herself that she cared and more for her parents' legacy. _Though they do have another child to put their faith in if I fail them._

"My dad said the Hat takes your choice into account," said Al in a much more offhand way than Rose suspected he felt. "He doesn't really care which House I end up in." He looked incredibly relieved at that.

"And _he _didn't threaten to disinherit you," pointed out Rose. "But then, your dad's always been nice to everyone. I bet if Dad ends up throwing me out because I'm not a Gryffindor, I could stay with you." She smiled.

"Yeah!" exclaimed Al with more enthusiasm than Rose had expected. "You have no idea how weird it gets at home," he explained when she looked her confusion. "Lily's always begging for attention and James is constantly getting on my nerves." He frowned. "Speaking of James, he hasn't introduced me to his friends yet."

"I expect he's forgotten," responded Rose, staring out the window and tapping her rosewood (surprise!)-and-unicorn-hair wand against her thigh. "Are we allowed to do magic on the Hogwarts Express?" The question burst out of her before she could suppress it. She had been dying to know for ages.

"Probably," shrugged Al. "What Muggle is going to see us?"

A smile played on Rose's mouth as she waved her wand. "_Flagrate_!" she said excitedly, and as the tip of her wand burned fiery red, she happily (though sloppily; she was a terrible artist) drew a Gryffindor lion in midair and did her level best to make it prowl around, with limited success.

Al clapped anyway. "Wicked!" he grinned. "That was amazing. You're sure to get an O in Charms!"

"Thanks!" responded Rose, smiling just as happily, all thoughts of Gryffindor versus every other House vanquished by the fact that no matter what, she _was _going to Hogwarts, and she _was_ going to beat Scorpius in every test like her father wanted her to… Which reminded her.

"…Hey, what's so terrible about the Malfoys? My dad won't talk about them."

Al looked a little startled. "Well, Malfoy's dad was really awful to your parents and my dad in his day," he said thoughtfully. "He called your dad Weasel King, and mine Potty. He never missed an opportunity to make fun of them. Once he hexed your mum and made her teeth grow out of control. But my dad says he came around in the end."

"Your dad," said Rose reproachfully, "is nice to _everyone_." She made a mental note to avenge her parents. _How dare he!_

Al must have seen the expression on her face, because he said quickly, "You're not planning on doing anything stupid, are you? My dad said not to duel anyone till we've learned how."

"I don't even know any jinxes yet!" said Rose indignantly.

"Okay, okay," replied Al, holding up his hands in a defeated manner, "I was just making sure! I don't want you to get into trouble. You're my cousin, and I love you." He smiled. Rose couldn't help but smile back. He was just one of those people you couldn't help being happy around.

They sat in silence for the majority of the rest of the drive, with the minor exception of ordering half the sweets off the trolley as it passed by and munching on those on their way to Hogwarts. She couldn't wait to see it for herself. Photographs probably didn't do it justice. There was a feeling in her stomach that had nothing to do with the Peppermint Toads hopping.

Making very sure to stick together once they stepped off the train, tentatively leaving their luggage and pets (Mercury the gray owl and Morgana the black cat) they found Hagrid (very easily).

"Welcome to Hogwarts!" he boomed, beaming down at them. "With eyes like yeh've got, you can't be anythin' but Harry's boy—and you, young lady, yeh're as much of a Weasley as they get." He smiled at her, and Rose couldn't help but feel that others might mean it as an insult later on. She allowed an uncertain grin out of her mouth and followed him to the little fleet of rowboats, clutching Al's hand tightly. Rose frowned as she realized they had no oars, then remembered magic existed and smiled a little to herself.

She and Al packed into the same boat and smiled at one another ecstatically. Finally, they were going to get to see Hogwarts! As the boat lurched forward, then glided smoothly across the lake, she gasped as she saw the castle come into view. It was even more beautiful than she expected, and that was saying something.

"Oh, Al, how are we going to be able to concentrate on our lessons in such a lovely place?" she breathed. Truthfully, she was surprised she could even speak. She had only ever really seen the fairly small house her parents lived in, in a suburb on the outskirts of London, only a short distance away from her closest cousins. It was a very long way away from this castle in more ways than one.

"We'll find a way," he promised, agape with wonder himself.

"There are secret passageways, too!" she exclaimed as quietly as possible. "Why did _James _get the Marauder's Map, anyway?" she asked crossly. "It belonged to Uncle George before it belonged to Uncle Harry."

"And it belonged to Granddad James before it belonged to Uncle George," finished Al. "Still ours."

Rose blinked and muttered crossly something about how the Potters got all the good magic items, and the boats bumped gently onto the shore. Immediately forgetting all about the Marauder's Map and any jealousy she harbored over James's ownership, she leapt ashore and hurriedly followed Hagrid towards the door. It seemed like it would rain any minute, but Rose rather liked the rain, and she had an entirely new castle to explore, so that didn't dampen her mood at all.

"All right, now," began Hagrid. "Yeh'd best stand back." He tapped the door with his umbrella; Rose heard the clicks of many locks releasing the doors, and finally they swung open, allowing the flood of students into the hall. Rose gave the umbrella a suspicious look as she swept in, followed closely by Al, who looked somewhat apprehensive.

Hagrid shut the doors behind them, guided them through a maze of hallways, and instructed them to wait there; the first years were left standing alone in a fairly dark hall with nary a place to sit. Rose felt a bit scared in spite of herself and squeezed Al's hand, which squeezed back in an attempt to be comforting. She could tell he was just as nervous as she, though. She busied herself with looking around, once her eyes had adjusted to the dim light. It seemed someone had forgotten to light the torches.

"_Lumos_," she whispered, remembering suddenly one of the spells she'd studied, and blinked in partial surprise as it worked. The other first years stared at her wand tip as though they had never seen the like, and gradually every wand in the room was lit, beams of light twirling around the place and casting away some of the gloom that had descended upon the group as they had remembered what they were about to go through.

Suddenly, silvery light was added to the gold as a flock of spirits—_flock? _wondered Rose; _what's the proper plural term for a group of ghosts?_—floated through a wall and disappeared through the door on the opposite end of the room they were in. The last of them, a teenage boy with short hair, hung back a little while, studying Rose closely, and his laughter echoed through the room as he continued through the wall instead of the door for no apparent reason, turning back and winking along the way.

"What was—?"

"No idea," sighed Al, shaking his head and giving a fearful glance to the door just as it opened; he jumped, likely expecting more ghosts, but it was only a tall, kind-looking woman with long brown hair, who shut the door quickly behind her and blinked at the display of lights from the first years, none of whom seemed to remember the incantation to turn off their wandlight.

The lady waved her hand, detaching the lights from their wands and placing them in the torches in the form of fire. Rose beamed; such displays of magic were fascinating to her, and she could hardly wait to get started. _Someday, I'll be as great a witch as Mum!_

"Welcome, new students!" she said, smiling earnestly at the group. "My name is Professor Turpin, and I am the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts. Now," she added, "your task right now is simple: you will don the Sorting Hat and will then be assigned a House. There are four Houses, each standing for a specific admirable quality: Gryffindor, for bravery; Hufflepuff, for effort; Slytherin, for resourcefulness; and Ravenclaw, for wisdom."

There was much whispering among the students as they debated which House they would be in, but Professor Turpin cut it short as she turned, glancing over her shoulder in a fashion that Rose knew must mean that they were supposed to follow. She was the first to move, tugging Al's hand and smiling bravely. _I'm sure to be in Gryffindor at this rate, _she thought proudly, refusing to look at anyone seated at their tables, not even at James. The murmur of the already-Sorted students faded as her heart pounded anxiously, drowning out all other sounds. She barely even had the energy to look up and marvel at the enchanted ceiling.

"New students will sit upon the stool when their name is called," announced Professor Turpin in a loud voice, clearing Rose's head a bit and causing the rest of the Great Hall to fall silent. Of course, now she had ages before her name was called. _Why does my name have to start with a W?_

Through the first part of the Sorting, Rose could do nothing but shiver nervously and feel Al do the same, though each was pretending that they were there solely to comfort the other. She tuned out the names being called, too nervous to pay attention until—

"Finch, Marilyn!"

Rose jumped as the blonde girl next to her trotted up, looking confident, and watched as the Hat was placed upon her; she had only had it on a few seconds before it shouted, "HUFFLEPUFF!" and the girl trotted over to the table on the far right to applause from her new Housemates. _Well, if it's as easy as all that…_

"Jordan, Naomi!"

"RAVENCLAW!" This time, the Hat had taken considerably longer. Why was that?

She was lost in thought about everything she had heard about what the Hat was like and whether it was true until she dragged herself back to the here and now, reason being that she had heard "Malfoy, Scorpius!". Rose glowered at him after he had passed her; the hat shrieked, "SLYTHERIN!" after it had barely touched his head.

"Potter, Albus!"

The Hall had gone dead silent; Rose crossed her fingers. If they could just be in the same House… It didn't even matter so much to her _which _one, now, so long as they could be together. He was her only friend, after all.

It took perhaps a full minute while the entire assemblage waited with bated breath before the Hat yelled, almost deafening in the quiet, "SLYTHERIN!"

With an expression of resign, Al got down from the stool and trotted over to the Slytherin table, not looking at either Rose or his brother. James had a murderous expression on his face as Rose glanced at him in shock, as though he might march up to the Sorting Hat and demand it change its mind. Meanwhile, the silence prevailed until finally Malfoy was the one to start his table clapping for Al.

Through the next several names, Rose just stared at Al. _He said the Hat takes your opinion into account. What made him think Slytherin was all right? I thought he wanted to be in Gryffindor! _Again watching James, she found him discussing the issue with a couple fellow Gryffindors, all the while glaring at both Al and Malfoy.

"Thomas, Marina!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

James gave Al's back a pointed stare, almost as though saying, _See? How hard was that? _Rose fought the urge to roll her eyes at him. Now that she had gotten over her initial shock, she was actually quite proud of her cousin. Here was the proof everyone needed that Slytherins weren't evil by default, just like her mother had always said. She smiled at Al just as he looked over at her, and she could see the relief on his face that not _everyone _was angry with him.

There were a couple more names, each one drawing closer and closer to the dreaded letter W. There was no escape now. Soon, she would be branded with a House, and she wouldn't be able to leave it for seven years… _Seven years._

"Weasley, Lucy!"

Rose gave a sigh of relief as she waved to the girl she recognized, distantly, as her cousin. They rarely saw one another, after all, and weren't great friends. _Of course she'll be in Gryffindor. All Weasleys, except for Uncle Bill's children, are Gryffindors—and that was because he married someone from Beauxbatons…_

The Hat sat on her cousin's head for maybe half a minute before shouting for the world to hear, "HUFFLEPUFF!" Rose blinked, then smiled as the Hufflepuffs pounded their table in appreciation. If a Potter could be a Slytherin, then a Weasley could be a Hufflepuff. _But that means—I might not be a—_

There was now only her and another boy left, and it had to be her. She automatically started walking towards the stool even before Professor Turpin called her name, sat down, and felt the Hat placed gently on her head.

She shut her eyes, waiting for something to happen, then jumping as a voice spoke inside her head.

"Well now, isn't this interesting? You have a nice appreciation for all the Houses… very Hufflepufflian of you… but you hold grudges as well, even if they've never done anything to you?" She knew it spoke of Malfoy, and struggled to cover up the thought. "Rather Slytherine." (She supposed this to be the adjective of Slytherin, though she wasn't quite sure.) "You expect to be in Gryffindor, I suppose, owing to the natures of all your family. But you seem rather more like—" It raised its voice so the Hall could hear, before Rose could even protest. "RAVENCLAW!"

**((Well, this has been the first chapter of my first Harry Potter fanfiction. I promise not to let my original characters get out of hand. Surprisingly enough, the ghost is not one of them. Constructive criticism is appreciated!))**


	2. Long Lost

_I thought you said the Hat gave you a choice! _Rose mouthed to Al, who looked melancholy and a little surprised. He shrugged and shook his head, pointing to himself; Rose took that to mean he hadn't been given a choice either. Getting up and walking to her new table, Rose gave a rueful look to a dumbstruck James; he wouldn't be getting any of his relatives into Gryffindor with him this year. _Which is fine, _she thought, _because most of the Weasleys were and will be Gryffindors anyway, unless I miss my guess._

She sat down at the Ravenclaw table, feeling thoroughly isolated and more than a little depressed even through Zabini, Richard's sorting into Slytherin, the speech Professor McGonagall made, and the fantastic feast (which was far better than even Grandma Molly's cooking).

But as Rose wearily followed the rest of the Ravenclaws to their tower after a dessert she didn't particularly feel like eating, she was brought up short by the feeling of ice gripping her foot and found a ghostly hand holding onto her! Her eyes widened and she prepared to call for help, freezing in place.

An evil-sounding laugh emanated from the ground, frightening her more than she would have thought, before the ghost that had winked at her pulled himself up from the ground and smiled mischievously. Rose trembled a little, not sure whether she should be scared or not but definitely veering towards the first of the two.

"Calm down, Rosie," he sighed, seeing her expression. "I _can _call you Rosie, right?"

"I—er," said Rose uncertainly. It was a name she reserved for relatives, and those of her parents' generation at that. Not random ghostly teenage boys. Looking at him more closely, she figured he might have been about twenty when he died—more of a young adult than a teenager, really. _What's all this about?_

"Good," smiled the ghost. "You'll find your way there eventually, I'll show you," he added as Rose glanced fearfully towards the members of her House, disappearing around the corner to who knew where. Then he made an attempt to take her hand and lead her somewhere equally mysterious.

"Wh-where are you—?"

"I can't let James have all the fun," snickered the ghost, trying to pat her on the shoulder; she grimaced at the coldness of his touch. "Even Ravenclaws deserve the fantastic opportunity to cause trouble once in awhile. Now, I'm going to show you the headquarters of the passageways around the school."

"But _why_?" Rose had never been more confused in her life. _So this ghost just spontaneously decides to show me the secrets of Hogwarts on my first day here…? Is this a normal occurrence?_

"You're the firstborn in a Weasley family!" he exclaimed, sounding surprised. "It's your _duty _to make mischief. I mean, it's not as though I'm not an expert in the area. Bill and Charlie did okay, till they were made prefects at least—then Percy got the privilege of being the oldest at Hogwarts at the time, and we all know he's a bore. He refused to take his duties seriously, so the job fell to George and I to keep things going even while he was still at Hogwarts." He gave a smirk that became him very well. Rose got the feeling that that was his normal smile, but at the moment, she could do nothing but blink. _You're Fred Weasley? _she wanted to say, but her mouth didn't move.

"Yes," he said, reading the expression on her face. "I died at Hogwarts, anyway, and you expected me to abandon all these opportunities to wreak havoc, and move on? Never." He smiled affectionately at her. "Now, do you accept the task of being Head Marauder—a pleasure I haven't granted even James?"

"Er, yes?" Rose wasn't quite sure what she was agreeing to, but far be it from her to deny the wishes of a ghost. Particularly not the ghost of _Uncle Fred._

"You're going to make history," said Fred happily. "The first Ravenclaw ever to have a proper sense of humor! Come on—I'll show you the tunnel system George and I found in our first year. It'll come in handy for you later." He swept down the corridor so fast Rose almost tripped over herself following him. Eventually, he stopped in front of a statue.

"I can get through like this," he said, demonstrating by sticking a leg through the wall, "but you'll have to cast a Banishing Charm on that statue right there." He pointed to a statue of a smug-looking wizard with his hands on his hips. "You know the incantation, right?"

"_Flipendo_," she whispered, looking around carefully before doing so.

"You're going to make an excellent Marauder," beamed Fred as the statue slid aside; at his gesture, Rose stepped on the switch that was underneath it. A stone slab in the wall behind the statue indented and moved to the left, revealing a large series of rooms through the rectangular hole in the wall.

"Right. In you go. This was my and George's secret library when we were still students. I've shown all my relatives where it is, except James, so it can be an exclusively Weasley area—and Potter, now, of course." He smiled as she looked around, barely noticing the slab sealing her in. She was already at home; she had practically _lived _in her mother's library as a small child.

"Wait… why didn't you show James?" frowned Rose.

"Well, Rosie, he has the Marauder's Map," smiled Fred with a superior air. "Something I gave his father long ago. He doesn't need me to show him—he can find it on his own. And I expect he'll tell Albus too," he sighed.

"How do you know about Albus?" asked Rose, more and more confused. _Isn't he locked in Hogwarts all year?_

"I hear tell from other various Weasleys I've shown this place," explained Fred, lying down in midair with his hands behind his head. "Albus, huh? We—I knew Harry was devoted to Dumbledore, but not _this _much," he added. "It doesn't matter. No name is as good as my own. I approved immensely when my eldest nephew came to Hogwarts for obvious reasons—" _Cousin Fred, _thought Rose.

"Albus is my favorite cousin," she said defensively.

"Oh, I've no doubt he's a nice person and all that," sighed Fred dismissively, "but does he really have what it takes to be a Marauder? I don't think so. From what my multitude of nieces and nephews have told me, he's quite the little peacemaker. And a _Slytherin_!"

"Well, I'm a Ravenclaw," said Rose stiffly.

"That's different."

"It isn't!"

"I didn't bring you here so you could try and justify Slytherins," smiled Fred. "Now, do you want to learn about this place, or not?"

Rose sighed. "Yes…" she said, though much less sure about this than she had started out—and that was saying something.

"This connects up to everywhere, if you know where to look," he said, drifting upwards and doing a flip in midair for no apparent reason. "Nineteen years and the most simple things about being a ghost still amuse me. Anyway, over there is the way to the network of tunnels going everywhere." Rose eagerly followed him as he led the way through the passages. "This way is the one to your dormitory," he added, after they had traveled in silence for about five minutes.

"Don't you mean the common room?" she asked, frowning and suppressing a yawn.

"No. Your _dormitory. _Well, technically, the seventh years', not the first years', that'd be just weird," shrugged Fred. "But you'll still be in the girls' half of the tower, anyway. And you'll_ be_ a seventh year someday, so that'll come in even more handy then." He smiled. "Just take out your wand and tap the symbol," he added, poking a small square with a raven and the sign of Venus on it. _Wow, that _will _be useful._

"…Did you ever _use _this passageway? Before you were a ghost, I mean?" asked Rose, suddenly very suspicious. Far be it from her to know everything about the subject of romance—she actually avoided it at all costs, finding it a completely obnoxious and stupid topic to discuss at her tender age of eleven—but she _had _been taught all about the fwoopers and the billywigs, to use the Wizarding term.

Fred gave no response but a very obvious wink. "I'll see you around, Rosie," he said, and floated up through the ceiling without further ado. Rose shook her head and tapped the square with her wand, then flailed around as she found herself caught in a curtain. Fortunately for her, her entrance was virtually noiseless, and none of the talking and giggling seventh years noticed her. She checked behind her, finding a carved four-pointed star as the switch instead of the ornate raven and Venus symbol, as she tiptoed quietly down six flights of stairs to the first years' room. _At least I'll be able to get back there from here, and I expect Fred will hear if I call. _She shook her head. _It's weird not calling him "Uncle". He doesn't look old enough!_

Once she reached her designated room, Rose followed the sound of a cat's purr to the only unoccupied bed in the room; the others were already sound asleep. She reached into the darkness and her hand met with the fur, black as night, of her cat Morgana, startling her out of her catnap and causing her to look up at Rose with an indignant green stare. Rose smiled a little, located her trunk at the foot of her bed, and changed quickly into her nightgown.

_I need a good night's sleep, _Rose thought as she fell into bed, carefully avoiding the cat curled on half her pillow and pulling the covers over herself as she noticed for the first time the gentle rain falling against the window. _Classes tomorrow and all that. _She felt a vague sense of comfort, as well as disturbance, that her uncle was still around, causing mayhem wherever he went. _I thought that was Peeves's job, and that he didn't like it when other ghosts tried to take over his work, _she thought drowsily, as she drifted off to sleep. _But I'll figure it out someday. I'm a Ravenclaw._


	3. It's All the Ghost's Fault

Rose's eyes snapped open before the sun rose the next morning. It couldn't have been later than six-thirty as she groaned and rolled out of bed. Wondering vaguely what had awakened her at this hour, and slightly resentful that she had opened her eyes—_I can never go back to sleep in the mornings if my eyes open—_she noticed the absence of Morgana's warmth on her pillow, and got dressed in a hurry, shivering.

It was still raining; the dormitory was as cold as though it were winter already, and Rose wondered, half-asleep, why it wasn't snow falling instead of rain. No sooner than she had put on a plain black skirt and white shirt, tightening up her bronze-and-blue Ravenclaw tie and clasping her robes together, did Fred's ghost do a backflip through the wall behind her bed; she stifled a shriek of alarm.

"D-_do _you mind?" she exclaimed, falling onto her bed and looking up at her uncle's grin upside-down. She got up in as dignified a manner and brushed herself off, re-clasping her now-undone robes and glaring at Fred as much as she could manage (not very; his laughter was contagious).

"No, not at all," was his response. "Now, I probably won't get to see you a lot this year, since I have—ah—prior engagements." _What prior engagements can a ghost stuck at Hogwarts have? _wondered Rose, frowning. "But if anyone ever threatens you, he'll have to deal with me." He gave a somewhat wicked smile. Rose just blinked.

"Can't I have a go at them first?" she surprised herself by asking. _Where did that come from? _It wasn't as though she didn't feel that way, but she would never have expected herself to say that aloud.

"That's my niece," said Fred proudly. "Of course. But if you need me, don't hesitate to ask!" He gave a halfhearted attempt to ruffle her hair. "It never works," he muttered sadly.

"I won't," she promised. "Now, what exactly did you want?" She had actually been looking forward to exploring the castle on her own, _without _the help of a dearly departed uncle. Now that she knew the Weasley headquarters, or whatever he had called them—_secret library, _she remembered, _how brilliant a name is that?_—she had been hoping he wouldn't show her anything else, that he'd let her figure it out by herself.

"Just to wake you up," he chuckled, much to her relief; she had been expecting a full tour of Hogwarts's secret passageways. "You should explore for the hour or so you have before breakfast is served, if you want to be a proper Marauder. I won't interfere, don't worry," he added, laughing again at the expression of relief on her face. "I'll be seeing you, Rosie." He oozed back through the wall, and Rose skipped down the stairs to the common room and through the door without further ado.

Not without some difficulty, she found the statue leading to the secret library and cast a Banishing Charm on it, and just as she was about to step on the switch and enter the headquarters when the caretaker, whose name she recalled was Corner, rounded the corner and her wand flew out of her hand. She backed up against the statue automatically, instinctively avoiding the switch so he wouldn't find the area, and blinked in fear as he advanced on her.

"What are you doing up so early?"

"E-exploring the castle, sir." She wasn't accustomed to leaving out details, such as _what _exactly she was planning on exploring, but she swallowed the words. She had a feeling that for her to allow anyone else to discover the secret library, even the caretaker, would be traitorous to her family name.

"At six forty-five in the morning? Curfew doesn't end until seven," he snapped.

"I-I'm sorry, sir!" she squeaked, somewhat frustrated, but making absolutely sure she was masking the switch. _It would have been helpful for Fred to—_

"Aw, leave her alone, Michael," said Fred, drifting out of a wall suddenly and making Corner and Rose both jump. "She's just a first year, and it's the first day of school. She didn't know any better."

"What have you to do with this, Weasley?" asked Corner venomously. _Wonder what the history there is…? _They were plainly not on friendly terms.

"Well, seeing as you're a whiny git accusing _Ginny's niece_ of wilfully breaking the rules," shrugged Fred, and Rose gasped—_is he allowed to talk to them that way?_—as Corner's color heightened and he brandished his wand at Fred.

"Take it easy, Michael!" exclaimed Fred, raising an eyebrow and trying rather unsuccessfully not to smirk. "I'm not even insulting the fact that you can't get a better job than Hogwarts caretaker, or that Chang dumped you too, or anything this time." His ghostly eyes fairly glimmered with mischief. "Come on, let her off. There are so many more people who deserve detentions than her."

"Don't tell me—" began Corner furiously, then cut himself off. "You're making things worse for her! You're making giving her a detention more and more appealing." He glanced at Rose, who was beginning to tremble. _Already in trouble and it's my first day! Mum will be so disappointed…_

"Suit yourself," shrugged Fred. "It won't affect _me_ in any way, so you won't be getting back at me if you do. And you might find that everyone tomorrow knows you asked Ginny out but she dumped you because you were such a loser, and clearly married the better man." He stuck his tongue out and vanished through the stone, calling as he went, "Keep that in mind every time she gets in trouble." He tossed Rose a very obvious wink.

Corner looked at her with obvious distaste, but sighed. "I'll let you off this time," he muttered. "Oh, they should have thrown him out just like Peeves. He's more than enough trouble even without his ability to unscrew chandeliers or anything like that…" He walked off, muttering, and Rose, hardly able to believe her luck (and with her heart pounding what felt like a million miles a second) stepped on the switch surreptitiously and stepped hurriedly through the rectangular hole.

"Nice work! You've wriggled out of your first prosecution," smiled Fred, who had been acting as though he were part of the wall. "I'll leave you to it, then. Don't forget breakfast before you head off to your classes!"

Rose, after her initial shock at his sudden speech, smiled a little and headed on down through the tunnel leading to the other passageways. For the first time, she was beginning to appreciate her father's reminiscent tales of times when he had gotten into mischief with Harry back in their school days. _This is so much fun, much more than I thought it would be, _she thought, as she found several different classrooms and another dormitory which had to be the Hufflepuff boys', considering it had a badger and a Mars symbol upon the switch.

_What time is it? _she thought, some large amount of time later, _and where am I?_

She considered calling Fred for help, but her independent streak urged her to find her own way, and Rose ended up backtracking (panting; it was rather a steep slope for some of the way). _At least it's only History of Magic first, _she thought despite herself. However much she loved magical history, she'd heard from her father how unutterably tedious Binns's class was, so she doubted she was missing much.

Eventually, she found her way back to the secret library and sighed, wondering how exactly she was supposed to get back out into the corridor from there. She had only ever managed to get out into the Ravenclaw tower, and though she thought the best thing to do would be ask Fred's help, she still had the urge to do_ it_ herself, whatever _it _might be. _Can't rely on a ghost to explain everything._

She couldn't see the outline of the slab, so she ended up poking random parts of the stone wall for about ten minutes until finally, she resorted to just tracing it along the stones. Following her wand's movements, the stone slab slid aside once more just in time to reveal Corner stalking away from her. Rose hurriedly clambered out of the hole, willing it to shut faster so the caretaker wouldn't see, and realized that she had no idea where the History of Magic classroom was, not having left with the rest of her peers.

Tiptoeing down to the Great Hall, Rose found that it was (predictably) empty. She walked right back out, frustrated, and sneaked along the walls, hoping fervently that Corner wouldn't jump her when she least expected it and find an adequate reason to give her a detention.

_I think Mum said something about moving staircases, _she thought, and, lacking a better idea, headed towards where she knew Ravenclaw Tower was—through a pair of great oaken doors, wincing as they creaked loudly and possibly alerted the caretaker to the whereabouts of a skiver. She then sprinted to the first of the staircases, starting as it moved of its own will to one of the higher floors.

Stepping off the staircase onto the landing, she looked around cautiously and poked her head into a classroom cautiously, pulling back as she realized it wasn't taught by a ghost. Rose flattened herself against the wall and continued down the hallway, peeking into each classroom she passed without any luck. _I'm never going to find it, am I. _It was hardly a question, even in her mind.

Eventually, she gave up and jogged back to the staircases to try another floor, but skidded to a halt as she realized the stairs weren't there yet but rather traveling towards the landing with Corner (thankfully not looking in her direction) in tow. Rose knew there was no way she could hide, and that it would look worse for her if she did, and so approached slowly and cautiously anyway.

"Er," she said, mustering up all her the Gryffindorish courage she could, "I wonder if you might tell me… where the History of M-Magic classroom is…?"

Corner started and his eyes met hers; she knew he recognized her as the 'troublemaker' from earlier that morning. "Certainly," he said with mock politeness. "If you'll just come this way." There was a somewhat cruel glint in his eyes, and she knew that he was going to take her to the headmistress's office even before they turned up at the dragon statue Rose knew could hardly believe to be a guardian of a regular classroom.

"Animagus," he said, and before Rose could frown and ask what about them, the dragon spun around to reveal a spiral staircase, up which Corner led her. She got the feeling that he wasn't really this evil, that he was only a stickler for the rules, but the uncomfortable sensation that she actually _was _in the wrong and he had every right to do this gripped her. Rose had never been in trouble before at home. That was Hugo's job. And here she was, her very first day at Hogwarts, getting done in for skipping class—and that wasn't her decision!

Making a mental note to yell at Fred's ghost next chance she got, she was thrust into McGonagall's office and glanced fearfully up at a surprised-looking old lady with silvery hair. She looked rather severe after her initial expression, however, and seemed perhaps eighty years old. "What is it, Corner?"

"I found her wandering outside of class, Professor McGonagall," announced Corner.

Professor McGonagall examined Rose closely; Rose felt heat coming up into her cheeks. _Please don't take House points, please don't… it's all the ghost's fault. A Gryffindor's. Fred's. _She was surprised she didn't say the words aloud; she could practically hear them ringing in the silence of the office.

"Miss Weasley?"

"Y-yes, Professor?"

"What are you doing outside of class?"

Rose swallowed her fear. "Trying to find my way _to _it," she said, as boldly as she dared. _I'm telling the truth. There's no way they can expel me for this. I have nothing to fear. _No wonder she wasn't in Gryffindor, if it took her this long to calm her rapid heartbeat over a simple misunderstanding!

"Earlier today, I caught her out fifteen minutes before curfew ended," added Corner urgently, and Rose automatically wished that Fred would pop up and claim responsibility. Then it occurred to her: _What has he done for me but to show me a single shortcut into Ravenclaw Tower? _She resolved to accept only a detention, demanding one if necessary, and bear it without complaint, acting as though Fred's reckless actions were her own. That would show him she could get out of situations without resorting to trickery, or his assistance. _I can be honorable. Unlike him._

"I'm sorry to find that being in Ravenclaw, away from your mischievous cousins, has done nothing to quench your innate thirst for—for_ adventure_," sighed Professor McGonagall, looking incredibly disappointed in her—having an adult disappointed in her was far worse than an adult being angry at her, at least in her opinion. "Ten points will be taken from—"

"Please, Professor!" broke in Rose. _Don't make me responsible for humiliating Ravenclaw because of a Gryffindor ghost! _"I'll serve a detention instead," she muttered when Corner and McGonagall looked scandalized at her interruption.

"I'm sorry?" she asked, blinking in a shocked manner.

"I'd rather serve a detention than have points taken from Ravenclaw, if you don't mind, Professor," repeated Rose, voice stronger. _I can do this. Anything but humiliate Ravenclaw with negative points because of me._

"Very well," responded McGonagall, sounding curious. "You may visit Madam Wood and ensure that the broomsticks are in working order. She will inform you as to proper broom safety." She tapped her wand onto a small square piece of parchment, and handed it to her after signing her name. "Is that all, Corner?"

"Yes, Professor," he said, meekly, and guided Rose down the staircase without another word.

"So—where is—?"

Corner pointed her to the classroom exactly at the end of the hall. "Get along, then," he said, not unkindly. "I've done my job."

"Thank you, sir," she said, smiling just a little; her detention wasn't a terrible chore, and her instinct that Corner wasn't inhuman had ended up being correct. _For now, anyway. _She marched over to the door and walked in late to find that Binns was in the middle of a particularly boring lecture. His back was to her; he evidently supposed he was writing on the chalkboard, but could not pick up the chalk, magically or otherwise, to do so (she could see lost expressions on the face of every single student as he scrawled nothing in midair). She edged her way to an empty seat, fortuitously located next to Albus, and as Binns turned around, he noticed nothing out of the ordinary.

_Where have you been? _Al passed a piece of paper over to her desk bearing the words. She was slightly surprised; he seemed like the kind of student who would never be caught dead passing notes—he was always so observant and hated to disappoint his parents, who had admittedly set some very high standards—but apparently this was either untrue, or did not extend to History of Magic.

_ Fred's ghost, _she wrote back. Al frowned, but was called upon to answer an obscure question involving when wizards first learned they could manipulate the world around them in as yet undiscovered ways, and so he could not ask whatever questions he had.

The bell rang as soon as the answer left her cousin's mouth, after a large amount of stalling while he tried to recall what exactly Binns had mentioned. "What's this about Fred's ghost?" muttered Al. "Fred's alive. Has an apprenticeship in his father's company—Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, remember?" Rose had heard tell they moved the apostrophe after Uncle Fred had died, but she wasn't sure, not having been alive at the time.

"Never mind," muttered Rose, getting the feeling that if Fred wanted Al to know about the secret library, and indeed his existence as a ghost of Hogwarts, he'd tell him himself. "The point is, I've got detention after school—"

"_What_?!" exclaimed Al. "That's—_you—_how?"

"It's a long story," sighed Rose. "I was out too early this morning, you see, so… Do the Slytherins and Ravenclaws have next class together?" It was a bit of an abrupt change of subject, but she didn't want to lose whomever she was having next class with.

"No, you're with the Hufflepuffs. We've got the Gryffindors," explained Al. "Follow them. Didn't you bring your schedule?"

"I was in a bit of a hurry to get out of my dormitory and explore," muttered Rose. _Another thing that's Fred's fault. What isn't? _"Excuse me." She sprinted back to the classroom to find that Marilyn Finch was just waking up and heading out, and hustled towards her, grateful that she was a Hufflepuff and should therefore know where they were supposed to go.

"Oh, hello Rose," she beamed, as though they had actually met before in their lives. "I'm Marilyn, but I expect you were paying attention when I got Sorted, weren't you?" She shook Rose's hand; Rose just blinked. "Let's get a move on, we've got Transfiguration next and I hear you don't want to keep Professor Cornfoot waiting."

"O-okay," stammered Rose, and followed Marilyn. At least she seemed to have some sort of idea where they were supposed to go, and that was a desirable quality in a friend as far as Rose was concerned. _At least I know where my first and second periods are now, _she thought.

Their Transfiguration lesson was uneventful, in part because they were instructed to read an entire chapter of their textbook before they did any actual work, taking up most of the class period with the boring but essential fundamentals. When they were done, they were instructed to attempt to make their quills look like regular feathers for the five minutes before the bell rang again and class ended.

Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions, and Herbology all passed without incident. They worked on Banishing Charms in the first class, which Rose got the hang of right away (of course); in Defense Against the Dark Arts, they began with a discussion of how Rose's relatives saved the world almost twenty years ago; in Potions, they whipped up some Wiggenweld draughts (Rose kept a tiny bottle of it for herself just in case she got some minor cuts or bruises); and in Herbology, she learned that Neville was an excellent teacher, no matter how awkward he always seemed whenever he came round for dinner at her parents' house.

As she walked out of the greenhouses with Neville's praise ringing in her ears—_even if he's Head of Gryffindor House, he's quite liberal with giving points to Ravenclaw—_she turned her thoughts and her feet towards the broom shed, and was more than a little surprised to find Malfoy, there already, sitting there sullenly as though he too were about to ensure that Madam Wood's broomsticks were in working condition.


	4. Theft

Sitting as far away from Malfoy as she could and trying to look as though she wasn't about to serve a detention just like him, Rose gingerly sat down on the bench still damp from the rain earlier in the morning (the sky threatened more). Rose stared determinedly in the opposite direction, though she could feel his cold steel-gray eyes on her back. _When will Madam Wood arrive? _she thought after several minutes, just as the courtyard doors swung open and a lady with shoulder-length light brown hair stepped through.

"Ah, you two must be my helpers!" she exclaimed, and Rose smiled uncertainly. She at least _seemed _like a nice person, but one could never be sure with unknown quantities. "Follow me," she added, turning and striding towards the broom shed. Malfoy got up more slowly than Rose, who was keen to have this be over as soon as possible. She hadn't counted on having to work with _him_.

Madam Wood unlocked the door to the broom shed quickly with her wand, and drew out two broomsticks. "What you'll be doing is making sure the brush is straight, seeing if there are any scrapes or cuts on the handle, and notifying me if there are any problems. You each have about twenty brooms to do." _That's good; it shouldn't take us much time at all. _She sat upon the bench across the way, and took out a copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages. _"Oh, and one more thing," she called. "You are _not _to ride the broomsticks."

"We won't," called Rose, and heard no reply, turning back to find that Madam Wood was already absorbed in her reading.

"What're you in for?" asked Malfoy, sounding curious rather than hostile as Rose would have expected.

"None of your business," she said, forgetting to snap at him as she had subconsciously promised herself she would. Rose retrieved a broom and started inspecting it; it looked flawless to her, so she set it aside.

"I figured you might say that. I'm in for being late to Transfiguration." He received his broomstick as well, and also found nothing wrong with it. "Did you expect your cousin to be in glorious Gryffindor?" he asked after another several minutes, and this time there was a scathing note to it. "Did you expect _yourself_ to be—"

"Shut up, Malfoy," sighed Rose, echoing what she knew her parents must have said to his father at many points in their lives. "Please," she added, automatically. She wasn't accustomed to being rude.

Surprisingly, he did. The two spent the rest of their detentions in silence, finishing simultaneously and standing up, catching one another's eye and almost smiling at the coincidence. Rose refused to allow a Malfoy to be the reason for her laughter, however, and forced herself to maintain a stony expression.

"We're done, Madam Wood," announced Malfoy, and Madam Wood looked up, obviously surprised. _That was a really, _really_ easy detention. I bet they're only going easy on us since it's the first day, though. Uncle Harry always talks about the time they all went to the Forbidden Forest to find a dead unicorn and Voldemort was—_

"Aren't you two quick!" said Madam Wood, startling Rose out of her thoughts. "Well, were there any unsatisfactory brooms?"

"I set aside the couple I found to the left," explained Rose.

"I didn't find any," said Malfoy at the same time.

Madam Wood proceeded over to the piles of broomsticks, evaluating Rose's work first. "Very good, Miss Weasley, you may go," she murmured, and Rose beamed as she went off through the courtyard. _Now I'm done with that, I have some free time! No one assigned me anything._

As she walked out, she heard Madam Wood snap, "Did you even look at these broomsticks, Mr. Malfoy? A good half of these are in bad condition! Five points from Slytherin, and do it all again."

Rose felt a little bit sorry for Malfoy, against her will, but busied herself instead with inwardly laughing about his inability to do even the simplest detentions. She caught herself wondering if it was because he was so intent on finishing as quickly as her that he wasn't paying attention to what he was doing.

_This could be the beginning of a long and beautiful rivalry, _she thought cheerfully; _Dad always says there's nothing like it._ Rose wandered the grounds until by some miracle she found the entrance to the castle, and from there (equally miraculously) she located the entrance to the secret library. Waiting until she was sure no one was coming, she shot a Banishing Charm at the statue, stepped on the switch, leapt through the entrance, and everything had moved back to its original position in a matter of ten seconds. _I'm getting better at this._

"How did it go?" whooped Fred's ghost, popping up in front of her and causing her to flatten against the wall in shock. She peeled herself away from the cold stone, and glared at him; no amount of his gleeful smiling would excuse him from the fact that he had landed her in detention.

"You got me into trouble!" she snapped.

Fred raised his eyebrows. "Easy, cos. You could have asked my help anytime, and you didn't. Simple as that: you let your sense of independence run away with you." He positively beamed at her, and Rose felt her expression soften for some reason as he continued, "I've never been so proud of anyone else, except when Frederick Charles was born, and—come to think of it—when George lost his… never mind," he added hastily, with a guilty glance at Rose that she did not quite understand. "But anyway, I definitely made the right choice, making you a Marauder." He scratched his head thoughtfully. "Of course, I wasn't planning on your sense of honor being quite so strong, as you're Ron spawn, but…"

"What's that supposed to mean, _Ron spawn_?" asked Rose, annoyed.

"Oh," said Fred loftily, "you're Ron's daughter; I expected you to get a little bit more of him in you than you—ah, Hermione's the one _that _happened to, and that's why you're here!" chortled Fred, and Rose frowned, not understanding. "I guess your mother really did a number on you, didn't she?" he finished, smirking and sitting down in midair.

"And I suppose if _you_ had children—" began Rose hotly.

"—they'd not only be Angelina's, thus conflicting with George's marrying her, but also much more like me than her," finished Fred. "I'd take the liberty of teaching them all the essentials. Angelina's enough like us—me," he amended, looking somewhat sad, "that it wouldn't matter, though. Ron's nothing like Hermione. I suppose you had to turn out more like one of them than the other."

Rose blinked, having nothing to say to this.

"I'm sorry," she muttered, returning to her earlier dilemma. "I should have called you for help, like you said."

"_Who _said you should have?" asked Fred, raising an eyebrow. "That would have involved sensibility, which any sensible Marauder should never have." When Rose looked her confusion, he sighed and said, "It means that would have made sense, which you should avoid whenever possible."

"O… kay," was the only thing Rose could think of to say. "Why?"

"Because _sense _isn't any fun," laughed Fred. "Your mother once threatened to write home about our Skiving Snackboxes. It wasn't as though we were breaking any rules; we were paying them to test them out, and we'd already tried the sweets ourselves!" His gleeful expression switched to vaguely annoyed as he referenced something that had happened years and years ago.

"Er," said Rose, heading towards the passageways and being totally unable to relate to anything he was saying, "d'you want to come with me this time and show me the way back before I end up staying here till after curfew? When _is _curfew, anyway?" she added, hoping to change the subject to something logical and relevant for once.

"Ten," said Fred promptly, visibly shaking himself back into the present. "You've got ages, but I suppose you don't want to miss dinner, so that's only a few hours. Come on, though, there are so many passages you're missing. It was almost painful watching you navigate this morning." He drifted right through Rose, freezing her in place as she tried desperately to warm herself up again, and looked back at her with a somewhat amused expression on his face.

"You'll get used to it," smiled Fred. "Now, are you coming or aren't you?"

"Where exactly are we going?" asked Rose suspiciously. She had just been meaning to explore with Fred as a guide, not be led anywhere specific. "Don't say I'll find out," she said warningly as the ghost opened his mouth, and he shut it, looking crestfallen.

"Fine," he sighed. "You _are _Hermione's daughter. We're going to visit your cousin Albus—or at least, you are," he added thoughtfully. "I'll hang back and wait for you once you've opened the passageway into the seventh year boys'." Without another word—Rose was grateful for the silence; perhaps losing his twin had increased his talkativity exponentially, without anyone else to interrupt him and finish a thought—Fred led her through a dizzying maze of tunnels to a tile with a snake and Mars sign on it.

"Be careful," whispered Fred. "If you're seen, it won't be good."

"Do I _have _to—" began Rose, but Fred interrupted her with a nod and pushed her. Though his arms went directly through her, it was incentive enough for her to move forward and put her drawn wand in direct contact with the magical tile, which sucked her through immediately. Caught in the curtains, Rose waited, heart pounding, until she was sure she wouldn't be seen before proceeding to the sixth years' floor.

Each time she rounded the corner, she expected snakes to jump out and hold her hostage for the Slytherin Head of House, Professor Pritchard, to come and dock a hundred points from Ravenclaw. By the time she reached the first years' dormitory, she was quite convinced it would have been a lesser punishment for her wand to have broken. Rose was most definitely not used to mischief-making.

"Psst! Al!" She spotted her cousin rummaging through his trunk as though looking for something, and remembered too late to check whether there was anyone in the room besides him.

Albus looked around, sounding startled and a little nervous as he demanded to know who was there, and Rose waved to him from the staircase. She was just lucky, she felt, that only Al was present, but her momentary relief was punctured by a feeling of overwhelming shame and a little wariness as he glowered at her suspiciously.

"What did you do with it?" he hissed, and Rose frowned.

"It?" she repeated, knowing how idiotic she sounded.

"Yes," snapped Al—he had never snapped at her before. "The Cloak. Why did you take it—just to get in here?" He looked at her mistrustfully as she blinked back tears. If there was one thing she couldn't stand, it was being talked to by a loved one in an angry tone of voice. Secondarily, she was being accused of something she certainly didn't do.

"Wh-what Cloak?" she asked, cursing her voice for sounding so guilty when she didn't do anything wrong.

"Oh, I don't know," said Al in tones of scorching sarcasm Rose had laughed at when used against other people but found she was deathly scared of it when it was used against her. "Maybe the one that lets you become invisible?"

"Y-you have one of those?" Rose blinked.

"Not anymore!" exploded Al, and his wand—drawn, Rose noticed—expelled a few silver sparks, which bounced on the carpet and disappeared. "_Someone _took it, and then _you _turn up in the Slytherin common room, which no one can do unless they know the password—impossible for a Ravenclaw—or they have an Invisibility Cloak!" He glared, and Rose flattened herself against the wall. _I've never seen him so angry!_

"I don't know who did it!" she squeaked. "I found my way here from a passage in the seventh years' room, not from the main entrance…" She trailed off as Al looked skeptical. _Oh no. Now he'll want me to—_

"Show me," he said, finishing Rose's thought.

Rose led him upstairs reluctantly and pointed to the tile behind the curtain with the four-pointed star. "You happy now?" she asked, cross in spite of her discomfort.

"No," responded Al curtly. "How does it work?"

"What?" asked Rose, selfishly thinking that she didn't want him to know about the passageways until she herself knew them better.

"I said," said Al with mock patience, "how does it work?"

"It's a secret!" squealed Rose as he made to prod it with his wand; he halted and looked at her, bewildered. "I mean, I'm not supposed to tell you! He wouldn't want me—" She clapped a hand over her mouth. This was sounding more and more suspicious, and she said all the wrong things when she was flustered. _Oh no._

"He?" responded Al, frowning. "Who?"

Rose only shook her head, hands still covering her mouth.

"Okay, fine," said Al, sounding annoyed, but no more than that, to Rose's relief. "You really shouldn't do this again, though. And if you find whoever stole my Cloak, could you hex them for me?"

"Me, hex them?" asked Rose, though smirking a little all the same.

"You know more than I do!" exclaimed Al, and now there was a hint of humor in his voice once again. "I mean, you're your mother's daughter."

"Thanks," mumbled Rose, relief making her weak. "Can I go now?"

"Yeah, sure," replied Al. "I wonder who could have taken it?" His vivid green eyes were dull with worry, and Rose still wasn't quite sure why. _Can't you just weave another one magically out of Demiguise hair or something…?_

"I'll let you know if I find out anything," promised Rose, at once feeling that she should not have promised as Al's eyes glimmered with relief and he murmured a thank-you. Why did she get the feeling she had just given herself an impossible task?


End file.
